


Secrets

by VyperDD



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bottom!Sam, M/M, drugged!Sam, feminized!Sam, non-con
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-04
Updated: 2015-10-04
Packaged: 2018-04-24 18:19:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,564
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4930150
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VyperDD/pseuds/VyperDD
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Both boys have secrets, secrets that will change Sam forever.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Secrets

TITLE: Secrets  
PAIRING: Sam/Dean  
RATING:NC-17  
WORD COUNT: 2500  
WARNINGS: bottom!Sam, feminized!Sam, drugged!Sam, non-con  
SUMMARY: Both boys have secrets, secrets that will change Sam forever.  
A/N: written for [this prompt](http://spnkink-meme.livejournal.com/103069.html?thread=39105693#t39105693) at [](http://spnkink-meme.livejournal.com/profile)[**spnkink_meme**](http://spnkink-meme.livejournal.com/)

Both boys have secrets. Sam doesn't know where Dean gets the various pills and powders and vials and Dean isn't telling. He doesn't even know exactly when Dean started spiking his drinks with rohypnol and injecting female hormones into his veins as he slept.

"Have your fun, Samantha," Dean says as Sam is tying the laces on his Nikes. "Cos when you get back we are going to have my type of fun and lots of it." Dean slaps him on the ass as he leaves.

Dean always calls him Samantha these days. Not Sam or even the once-despised Sammy. Only Samantha and Sam hates it more than he's hated anything in his entire life.

Sam's secret is that he's terrified that some day he may like it.

As he runs, Sam silently prays that today is not going to be that day.

He returns to the motel from his morning run exhausted and soaked to the skin but with a runner's high buzzing through his brain and body that he hasn't felt in a very long time. He feels fucking fantastic, could easily turn around and run another ten miles. But they are in the middle of a hunt and there are still things to research and monsters to kill.

Dean is standing in the open doorway. He's got an open bottle of watermelon Gatorade in one hand and a small paper baggie in the other. He gives a brief wave before emptying the powdery contents into the bottle.

Sam's heart, which is racing, skips a few beats. His stomach clenches and he stumbles for a couple of steps as he jogs across the parking lot. He's known for months now that Dean has been drugging him but this is the first time he's actually seen his brother doctoring something he's about to drink. Since what Sam has come to think of as The Change, Dean has always called his mystery concoctions 'knock-out juice'. He said it with a grin and a wink the first time but he wasn't joking and after waking up almost a day later with pierced ears and shaved pubes Sam didn't laugh.

Dean calmly watches Sam approach and makes no attempt to stop what he's doing or even hide his actions. He simply takes his time screwing the lid back onto the bottle, his eyes never shifting from Sam. When he gives it a brisk shake, the almost clear liquid changes to a bright blue and Sam wants to throw up there and then. He wants to spin around and run in the opposite direction, run as far and as fast as he can and never come back but he doesn't even break stride. He can't. Whatever Dean has been dosing him with has sapped his resistance and will, leaving him compliant to everything and anything Dean chooses to do to him.

He comes to stop in front of Dean, bending over, hands on his knees and breathing heavily. His ponytail falls over his shoulder, the tip nearly brushing the ground. Before The Change Dean used to threaten him with clippers whenever his hair grew past his ears. Now it's almost to his waist and Dean loves nothing more than washing and towel drying it. He especially loves their nightly ritual of brushing the long auburn waves that cascade down Sam's back until they shine. Dean loves running his hands and fingers through the luscious strands, burying his face and taking a deep breath. Dean's hair fetish still freaks Sam out but he never complains, never denies his brother's right to touch and caress any part of Sam that he wants.

"God, you stink. Need to get you a stronger deodorant or something. Start by shaving your armpits, I think." Then a minute later, "Come here, baby." Dean places his hand under Sam's chin and as soon as Sam straightens up, Dean kisses him.  
  
It's deep and passionate, the perfect lover's kiss, the sort he used to love giving Jess and even more loved her giving him but Sam knows not to respond. So long after Dean changed their relationship so drastically, he still likes Sam to be as docile and submissive as possible.

"Thought you just said I stink to high heaven," Sam says when Dean finally pulls away.

"I did and you do," Dean nuzzles at his throat, lapping and licking at the sweat. "But you know what, Samantha? I kinda like it." Dean runs his hand up Sam's bare belly, works his fingers under the fluoro pink sports bra Sam is wearing and squeezes his full breasts. "Wow, getting pretty tight in here. Swear your boobs have grown two sizes in the last month. Gonna have to upgrade you to a double D cup."

Sam squirms uncomfortably. It's mid-morning in early July and there are plenty of people at the motel, coming and going from their rooms and the parking lot. More than a few stop when they see him being fondled. Most turn away in disgust but a couple of teenagers actually keep staring, unable not to watch the gorgeous couple making out. It gets even worse when Dean slips his other hand down the back of Sam's shorts. Low-rise in the rear and high cut in front, they barely cover his backside and crotch, more like briefs than the proper running gear he used to wear. When Dean presses a finger against his asshole, Sam spreads his feet a little without even thinking about it, giving Dean easier access.

"Good girl," Dean whispers as he inserts his finger inside Sam's body. He doesn't go too deep, just to the first knuckle but it's enough for Sam to feel stretched wide open. He steps back and hands Sam the bottle. "Here, drink up so I can get you showered and changed. Wanna see you in the outfit I bought yesterday."

Sam gulps half the Gatorade down in a few swallows, grimacing slightly at the bitter taste. Dean takes his free hand and as he leads him inside the room he calls out to the kids. "Hope you enjoyed the show, dude. Samantha's quite a looker, ain't she?"

"Sure is!" the boy replies. "You are one lucky bastard. Wish my girl was as half as hot as yours. Wanna swap? Or we could share 'em, maybe?"

Dean just laughs and kicks the door closed.

"Ain't ever sharing you with anybody, baby. You're mine, Samantha. All mine."

Ten minutes later, Sam sways as Dean guides him out of the shower. The knock out juice had kicked in while Dean was shaving around his penis and balls and he feels light-headed and drowsy. Dean has one arm around his waist for support, Sam's head is on Dean's shoulder and he can't seem to stop yawning.

"Easy, baby. I gotcha." Dean takes him into the other room and sits him on the bed then gets various items of clothing out of Sam's duffel. "Only gave you a half dose this time," Dean says as he lays out underwear next to Sam. "Don't want you passing out on me just yet. Gotta have my fun with you first." Meaning Dean's going to drug him again once he's done. The fact that Dean is basically warning him what's going to happen later comforts Sam, relaxes him even more. He's always completely trusted Dean with his body and his life and he still does. That will never change and they both know it.

"What 'bout the hunt?" Sam asks, the words slurred.

"We know our monster can only die at sunset on the 7th of the month and that's not til tomorrow, so we got plenty of time to fill in. Don't worry, I'll take really good care of you, Samantha. Don't I always treat you so good, leave you begging me for more and screaming my name when I eventually stop making you come?"

"Yeah, Dean. You do."

"Ok, then. Time to get you dressed, baby. Go over to the mirror."

Dean starts with the corset. Made of stiff plastic covered in black satin and dotted with red and pink lace roses, it's designed to fit just under Sam's breasts, pushing them up and out and making them look even bigger, something Sam didn't think was possible. Sam braces himself with his outstretched arms as Dean criss-crosses the leather laces on the back, pulling them tighter and tighter, slowly constricting Sam's ability to take more than the shallowest of breaths.

"Take a deep breath, hold it, only let it out when I tell you." Dean's voice is gentle and full of love but Sam isn't sure he can obey what is an obvious command.

A breathy gasp is all he can manage. He tries again, panic rising from deep inside. "Dean... can't... too much... too tight."

"Yes, you can, baby." Dean stops pulling on the laces but he doesn't loosen them either. "You can do it for me. I know you want to please me."

"No!! Can't... can't breathe. Please don't... don't make me!"

Dean comes around in front of Sam, places his hands on Sam's face, tilts his head down and kisses him. He brushes his tongue along Sam's lips, asking for access rather than demanding it as he usually does. Sam opens his mouth in surrender and Dean slips his tongue inside, so soft, so loving Sam begins to cry.

He kisses Sam's tear-stained cheek next then whispers, "Samantha, what will I always do for you?" His hands are fondling Sam's breasts, gently kneading the soft flesh, thumbs rubbing over the nipples.

"Take care of me," Sam replies. He's feeling calmer by the second but still the tears fall. Another side effect of The Change is how emotional he has become, how vulnerable and dependent Dean has made him.

"That's right, baby." He kisses Sam's mouth again then the other cheek. "Samantha, what will I never do to you?"

"Hurt me." Sam is openly sobbing now, chest heaving painfully within the tight corset.

"That's right, sweetheart." Dean stands behind him once more, taking hold of the laces. "Now do what I told you to do."

Sam does. He takes the deepest breath he can and holds it as he feels Dean pulling the laces extra tight, holds it as Dean ties them off in a series of complicated knots. His lungs are burning and he's having trouble standing when Dean says, "Okay, let it out, nice and slow."

When Sam finally exhales, it feels like every bone in his back and chest is going to be crushed into a million tiny pieces. "Oh, shit. Oh, fuck," he somehow manages to groan before he runs out of breath. He suddenly collapses, would have fallen but Dean catches him, lowers him to his knees. Dean is right there beside him, holding him close, his brother's soothing murmurs and caresses helping Sam through his panic attack.

"It's all right, baby. Just relax, just breath. I've got you. Always remember that I love you, little sister. I want you so much, Samantha."

More than you ever loved or wanted me as your brother, Sam thinks but would never say out loud. Instead he kisses Dean back for a few seconds before Dean once again asserts his dominance and ravages Sam's mouth and lips and tongue.  
  
It calms Sam down a little but he's still trembling when Dean lifts him to his feet and leads him over their bed. He sits Sam down then picks up the panties, a black lace G-string that are so sheer they are transparent, sliding them up Sam's long hairless legs. Sam doesn't need to be told to lift his bottom so Dean can pull them into place. He takes his time doing so, stroking and squeezing Sam's cock, well what's left of it anyways. Even when fully erect it's only a couple of inches long now. "Your clit is still getting smaller. Think we can stop the injections after tomorrow. I'll still have to bind it for the next couple of weeks. Want to make sure the shrinkage is permanent." He tucks it back between Sam's legs then tightly wraps it and his balls in strips of compression gauze. It feels pretty uncomfortable but Sam is used to it now.

"Lay down and spread your legs for me." Dean thumbs his butt cheeks apart, making sure the thin strip of fabric goes deep into Sam's crack. There's a large red silk rose that Dean pushes into Sam's hole. It's stiff and scratchy and it rubs at the tender walls of Sam's anus in a way that shouldn't feel so damn good but does.

A skirt that barely reaches mid-thigh goes on next followed by six-inch stilettos. Dean spends long minutes brushing out Sam's still damp hair. As usual, he applies Sam's makeup like an expert. Ruby red lipstick and rouge to highlight his cheeks. Two different shades of glittering metallic green on his upper eyelids which Dean blends with his fingertip. He traces the lower edges of Sam's eyes and under his lashes with more green liner, smudging it with his thumb. Sam hates this part, has to focus hard not to close his eyes as Dean pulls the lower lid down, exposing the skin. Lashings of green mascara finishes the look and Sam's eyes feel heavy and alien, not his own at all.

Dean stands back to admire his work. "Wow, you look so beautiful, baby. Should take you out on the town, to the best restaurants, the hottest clubs just so I can show you off."

Sam shudders at the thought of being paraded around and ogled at by complete strangers, perhaps even being fondled and groped by them. But, much to Sam's relief, that never happens. Dean takes him to bed instead and spends the next twelve hours making love to him, fucking him slowly over and over, so loving and patient that Sam dozes off a couple of times, waking up when Dean pushes his cock back into his well-stretched, lube-slippery pussy or rubs his clit hard enough for Sam to cry out as he comes, tiny spurts of semen dribbling from the slit.

It's almost midnight when Dean pushes two small pills between Sam's kiss-bruised lips. Sam dutifully swallows, washing them down with the glass of double-strength knock-out juice Dean gives him.

He quickly becomes drowsy but is still mostly awake when Dean injects the daily dose of hormones into the vein below his right elbow. More injections in both breasts, his clit and balls follow. He's drifting off when Dean finally removes his skirt, heels and corset and dresses him in a tiny baby-doll negligée that doesn't even reach his waist.

"Sweet dreams, baby girl," Dean whispers to him, peppering his face, throat and chest with kisses. "Who are you now?"

Sam has resisted for so long answering that question. He can resist no more.

"Your little sister."

"What's your name?"

"Samantha. I'm Samantha."

Samantha falls asleep, cradled in her brother's loving embrace, her brother's softening cock still wedged deep inside her pussy, her clit held between her brother's thumb and forefinger.

THE END


End file.
